Chapter 3

'How do I trap him without him noticing?' Charles wondered, his young mind racing. 'I have an idea, but I'll have to wait for the right moment.'

Meanwhile, Brian and Sharon were en route to the Alamogordo nuclear facility, their intentions concealed under a veil of secrecy. They were taking their own child to be tested.

'Mother thinks Father brought me here just to test his son for Mutant test,' Charles mused, a pang of pity for her in his thoughts. 'She has no idea.'

When they arrived at the facility, they passed through layers of security with an unsettling ease. Sharon cradled Charles in her arms, unaware of the true danger lurking ahead.

As they moved deeper into the complex, Charles cautiously reactivated his telepathy, reaching out to listen to the thoughts around him.

After a few moments, he withdrew his probing mind. Directing his telepathy at one person was exhausting, doubling his efforts and risking sleep—something he needed to avoid.

They finally arrived at the heart of the facility, where Dr. Nathan Milbury, head of research, awaited them. The atmosphere was clinical and cold, but the chill that ran through Charles had nothing to do with the air conditioning.

Charles watched, horror-stricken, as Milbury's telepathic influence washed over his mother, dulling her concern and suppressing any maternal instinct that might have made her resist. She didn't flinch as they prepared to separate her from her child.

He couldn't even allow himself the luxury of panic. If Dr. Milbury sensed his awareness, if he detected even the slightest ripple of fear in his thoughts, Charles knew he'd be as good as dead. He had to remain utterly still—his mind a blank slate.

Today marked the beginning of something terrible. The experimentation was about to start, and he could feel the cold hand of fate tightening around him.

They took him from his mother's arms, placing him in a sterile room with the other test subjects, infants like him with strange and powerful abilities. He lay among them, tiny bodies lined up like scientific specimens.

...

Three years later,

Xavier Estate, New Mexico

Charles sat across from Lafitte, staring at the chessboard with a frustrated expression. She'd defeated him easily—again. He was the one who had insisted they play without holding back, but he was regretting that decision now.

"Checkmate," Lafitte said, a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Fair play, Grandma," Charles muttered.

Lafitte smacked him lightly on the head. "Stop calling me 'Grandma.' I'm not that old."

"Yes, you are," Charles teased with a grin.

Lafitte raised her hand as if to smack him again, but Sharon appeared in the doorway. "Charles, your father's calling for you."

"He's leaving for work, right?" Charles asked.

Sharon nodded. "Yes."

"Okay, then. Bye, everyone. I'm going to meet up with my friends," Charles said. He hugged his mother and kissed her cheek before darting out the door to meet his father.

As they drove, Brian tried to make conversation, but Charles ignored him, pretending to be lost in thought. He was actually practicing his telepathic defenses, reinforcing the mental barriers he'd been building over the years.

"We're here," Brian said as he parked the car outside the lab.

Charles blinked, pretending to wake up from a nap. As they walked toward the laboratory, he noticed a boy about his age playing alone in a small park adjacent to the building.

"Dad, can I go play over there?" Charles asked, pointing to the park.

"You can, but stay out of trouble," Brian replied.

Charles gave him a thumbs up and watched as his father entered the lab, no doubt to continue his experiments on other children.

Charles approached the boy, who was sitting on a swing, his face disfigured. He took the swing next to him and gave the boy a friendly smile.

"What's your name? I'm Charles Xavier," he said.

The boy looked up, surprised. "Why are you talking to me?"

"Do the other kids ostracized you?" Charles asked gently.

"What's 'ostracized' mean?" the boy asked, frowning.

"Do they exclude you? Do they leave you out of things?" Charles clarified.

The boy nodded slowly, looking down at the ground.

"So, what's your name? I'd like to be friends," Charles said, his tone warm and sincere.

"You want to be friends with me?" The boy's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Of course," Charles said.

The boy hesitated, then smiled shyly. "My name is Mortimer Toynbee."

"Can I call you Morty?" Charles asked.

Mortimer nodded eagerly. "Yeah, you can."

A female doctor approached the park, calling out, "Charles, Dr. Milbury wants to see you."

Both boys turned their heads.

"We'll talk later, Morty," Charles said as he got up from the swing, offering a fist bump.

Mortimer looked puzzled and extended his hand for a handshake instead.

"No, like this." Charles smiled, guiding Mortimer into a bro handshake. "We're bros now, capisce?"

"Capisce!" Mortimer echoed, grinning.

Charles nodded, then turned to follow the doctor. As they walked, he glanced up at her and spoke in a low voice. "What are you planning, Destiny?"

The doctor's eyes widened in surprise. "How do you know who I am?" she asked, trying to maintain her composure. "Did you read my mind?"

"I don't need to," Charles replied calmly. "Irene Adler, also known as Destiny, who can see the future. You wouldn't be here unless something was about to go very wrong."

Destiny's expression softened, realizing he knew more than he should. "How did you find out?"

Charles shrugged. "I figured it out. You sent Mystique to watch over me, which means you're trying to prevent something bad from happening. So, what is it?"

"You really do know everything, don't you, Professor X?" Irene chuckled, though there was a trace of sadness in her voice.

"I'm not a professor yet," Charles said, his tone serious. "Just tell me why you're here."

Irene hesitated, then spoke softly. "Your life is in danger. It could end sooner than it's supposed to."

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Everyone dies eventually. What's so different about my death?"

"You're supposed to live long enough to create the X-Men, to make a difference," she said. "But if things continue like this, you won't get that chance."

Charles rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Thanks for the warning."

Without another word, he quickened his pace, leaving Irene behind. As he walked, he began constructing false memories, placing them carefully within his mind.

In these fabricated recollections, he and Irene had merely walked in silence, never exchanging a single word.

Irene watched him go, sighing softly. She hoped this small encounter might shift the future, even if just a little.